How stupid of him to fall for her lies. To think for one minute that something like him could ever have had value to a goddess.
Artemis saw the hurt in his eyes and it ripped through her own heart. She didn't want to do this to him, but what choice did she have? He would be dead in a few decades, but her shame would be eternal if word of this ever reached the other gods.
Humans couldn't be trusted. Ever.
"Remember my wrath will be legion." She wrenched his hair in warning before she sent him back to his world.
Shattered, Acheron sat on the floor of his room. Numb by the rejection and attack, he crawled out to the balcony that overlooked the sea and laid his head against the stone railing. He heard the voices of the Atlanteans calling to him.
More than ever before he was tempted to go. What would it matter if they did kill him?
If he could make sure they wouldn't abuse him more, he'd go to them. But deep in his heart was the fear that they only summoned him so that they could torture him too. Bowing his head, he wept and as every tear fell he hated Artemis for it.
No one had made him cry like this in years. Not since the day Estes had sold his virginity to the highest bidder and then held a party for everyone to watch the brutal violation that had made him ache and bleed for days afterward. Even now the laughter and jeers haunted him.
Break the whore in for the rest of us . . .
Acheron pounded his fist against the stone, wanting the pain to erase the shame inside him. But there was no relief. No mercy. Nothing could take it away.
The whore was tired now. He was finally broken. And it wasn't by the hand of his master or a client.
It'd been by the hand of the only person he'd ever loved. Defeated and lost, Acheron lay down on the cold balcony and closed his eyes, praying for death to finally come and end this nightmare that was his life.
January 28, 9528 BC
Ryssa was in her father's throne room while he, Styxx and Apollo laughed together, ignoring her. Which was normal. But what she hated was the fact that Apollo wanted her by him any time he came here. He treated her like a possession whose only purpose was to smile and fawn over his presence. And it made her wonder if this was how Acheron had felt in Estes home.
So what if the god was exceptionally handsome? She despised the way he dismissed her as if she were insignificant. The only thing worse than his treatment of her was her father's insistence that she was blessed to be in the god's presence.
If this was blessed, she'd hate to see cursed.
She turned her head as she caught a glimpse of a servant hesitating in the doorway. Pretty and timid, the girl was a year or two younger than Styxx. "Is something wrong, Hestia?" she asked the maid.
Hestia looked at the men fearfully before she made her way to Ryssa's side so that she could speak to her in a soft tone. "His Majesty wanted me to report if . . ." Hestia's gaze returned to the king before she finished the statement, "the royal prisoner stopped eating."
The royal prisoner. Acheron. Ryssa's heart pounded in fear. "Is he ill?"
She cleared her throat. "I know not, Your Highness. I haven't seen him in days. I leave food and when I return it's untouched. No one's slept in his bed."
"What?" her father's roar made both of them jump. "Guards! Follow me." He stormed from the room in the direction of her wing.
Terrified for her brother, Ryssa ran after him.
"What's going on?" Apollo asked Styxx as the two of them followed in her wake.
Styxx made a sound of disgust deep in the hollow of his throat. "It's Acheron. He's a worthless slave who used to be a tsoulus. Unfortunately his life is tied to mine so we have to keep him healthy. Although I feel fine so I'm sure he's only doing this for attention. May the gods forbid we ever be allowed to forget his presence here for one single day."
Ryssa ground her teeth. The last thing Acheron wanted was any attention from either Styxx or their father. But in Styxx's selfish mind he couldn't fathom Acheron wanting to hide from their glorious presences.
Her father stormed into Acheron's room, then drew up short. She entered behind him and paused to scan the empty interior. There was no sign of Acheron.
Her father turned on her with a furious glower. "I told you he couldn't be trusted."
Ryssa ignored him as she went to the one place her brother frequented. The balcony.
At first she didn't see him, but as she stepped forward under the awning that shielded her from the passing storm, she saw a figure out of her peripheral vision. It was Acheron sitting to the side with his knees bent and his arms folded over them. Completely naked, he stared into space as if unaware of the frigid cold and the rain that poured down on him. His hair was plastered to his head and at least two days' growth of beard dusted his cheeks.
Careful to stay out of the rain, she approached him slowly. "Acheron?"
He didn't respond. There was something about him that wasn't quite right. It was as if he'd died, but his soul hadn't left his body yet.